Capture Me

Souls

The brightness and the warmth on my face woke me up.

What was that dream about? I buried them a long time ago, along with my now-resurfacing feelings for Ryder.

I almost let the loud gasp escape my mouth as events from yesterday came rushing. Last night! My team! The freaking mission! The killing, Ryder showing up, the shower, the things he confessed, and the bed! I slept beside Ryder with just the towels separa—

I was naked as the day I was born. Oh, God. Did something happen? I couldn't recall any! Never mind that, I had to leave.

Slowly, I moved Ryder's arms off of me. Just when I was about to extricate my legs from his, they tightened, my automatic response was to turn my head to check, and there they were, those pale, sleepy blues were staring back at me.

"Morning, baby. Where are you going?" He said, his voice raspy from sleep.

I almost told him that I was about to go outside of the house, because those eyes had the effect of coaxing truths out of me. "To the bathroom." I still hadn't moved and still stared at him. Gosh, I missed the way he looked every morning.

Fuck, get over yourself!

Those arms of steel went back to wrapping themselves around me. "Looks like you were leaving to me." He buried his face in my neck. "Burned your dress last night by the way, baby, so you'll have to wear my clothes. You looked too sexy and delicious in those."

I looked at him like he sprouted another head. I couldn't care any less of the dress but I was kind of offended that he took the liberty to burn the dress, My dress. "You're such an asshole!" I kicked his legs and scrambled to get off the bed, but his hand grabbed my waist and plopped me back.

He chuckled. "Yeah, but I'm your asshole." He positioned himself over me, his knees on either side of my thighs. He closed the gap of our faces leaving only a space of an inch or two.

"Why in the freaking of all freaks did you burn my dress?" I meant to shout it at his face but it came out as a whisper instead. His eyes seemed to take all the air in me, making it hard to breathe.

Ryder didn't answer, just inched his face closer.

"What?—no Ryder— We can't!" I sputtered.

Ryder just stared. And stared some more.

Then, fat teardrops fell on my cheeks. "Ryder?"

He's crying?

Oh God, my heart ached seeing him so broken—but wasn't that supposed to be me?

"I have you here." He almost sobbed as he wiped his tears. "I got my soul back."

I was holding my own tears, I didn't want him to misunderstand that I was agreeing with him if I cry.

He buried his face in my neck—still crying—and letting all of his weight fall on me. I was still speechless, didn't know whether to hug him or just caress his back to console him or not at all touch him. I never ever saw Ryder cry, not even once, and now he was sobbing and clutching me like I'd disappear any second. The thought about his fear of losing me pinched my heart, I thought I locked away these feelings for him, assured that they wouldn't reappear again. I was wrong.

"I want you." It was so low that I almost didn't hear it, and then, I noticed the hardness pressed against my thigh.